Salomé
- Ingenious Pilot -
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Posts: 101
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Post by Salomé on Jan 6, 2009 17:24:42 GMT -5
"You don't know what a cherry is?" she repeated, amused, but not at his expense. She picked up one of the boxes and came back over, tossing herself down into her seat and crossing her legs. The short skirt of her dress rode up a bit, but she was both more comfortable that way and, she thought, more attractive. She smiled at Mortimer as though about to impart a secret, but not going to do so just yet.
"Well, then." She opened the box, lifted out one of the cherries, and leaned forward to press it to his lips - both sensual and rather amiable. She did like to treat people as though they were childhood friends, particularly if she liked them and they fit the mold of that well - she just liked to sleep with them, too. It was simple enough, really.
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Post by Mortimer on Jan 6, 2009 17:47:28 GMT -5
He smirked a bit, leaning forward likewise to meet her and pulling the treat into his mouth with a little chuckle. The action reminded him of his association with Bryan Fury and he tried not to grin around it, sitting back to chew thoughtfully.
"Oh!" he gave a little hop in his chair and laughed musically, covering his mouth with a slender hand. "It's very good!"
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Salomé
- Ingenious Pilot -
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Posts: 101
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Post by Salomé on Jan 8, 2009 21:04:51 GMT -5
Salome cupped his cheek, leaned forward, and kissed him with her smile.
"Then you must have more." She passed him the box and leaned back on her heels, removing her hand to her own face and watching him, her smile seeming unchanged from a moment before, no matter what shape her mouth had taken. "I must say I have never been as happy to eat chocolates myself."
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Post by Mortimer on Jan 8, 2009 21:13:18 GMT -5
"But why not? It's the most wonderful thing--really there isn't anything on the earth quite as good, except maybe f' apples."
He had blushed a bit at the friendly kiss, still not used to such actions quite just yet, still working to change that.
"What's the thing you enjoy the most?"
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Salomé
- Ingenious Pilot -
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Posts: 101
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Post by Salomé on Jan 12, 2009 12:06:02 GMT -5
((Waaagh, I didn't realize it had been this long! *hits self* PM me next time I am so stupid.))
Salome adjusted herself from where she sat, propping up her elbow on the edge of the couch he sat on, and resting her head against her hand, not really one who lapsed into stillness even at her most contemplative, but not foreign to contemplative poses, either.
Her hand curled slightly so that her fingertips fiddled with her earring, but she looked very pensive, even for an animated garconne with that smile on her face. "I think it's dancing. Not just because it gets me what I want - " She glanced back behind her, reached over for her glass of champagne in a little swoop, and brought it to her lips to take a sip. " - But because I like the movement. It is the spiritual wed to the physical. And, and, it's fun, of course, Mortimer, can you dance?"
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Post by Mortimer on Jan 17, 2009 1:39:11 GMT -5
"I don't know, I have never tried, I think."
He certainly had a build for grace, however, and his walk was smooth and sensual and slightly masculine. He could probably dance, shown how.
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Farinelli
- Masterful Virgin -
Ni homme, ni femme
Posts: 37
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Post by Farinelli on Feb 22, 2009 17:31:05 GMT -5
**NEW NIGHT**
Farinelli's peacock's feather's were suitably ruffled, which had undoubtedly been the ruffian's intention. Unfortunately, Farinelli was one of those who was more likely to be greatly distressed by emotional upheaval of the sort that angered others than was usual, being of a delicate and unstable disposition. Unable to express anger in the usual way - which was not uncommon in this century, although generally displayed more often by women, who were expected to not feel that emotion - it became something internal, something neurotic. Even a little fluttery fluster like that could feed a greater problem, and Farinelli felt pursued by ghosts as he went hurriedly down the stairs, hurrying, in fact, to such a point that his shoulder knocked into another man's rather heavily, and, momentarily imbalanced, his own hat fell off. He bent swiftly to retrieve it, apologizing in his usual low murmur, which, although it could not disguise the pitch of his voice, made it less obtrusive.
(tag Brandi.)
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William Aubrey
- In the Duggins -
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People who ask for your criticism want only praise. ~ W. Somerset Maugham
Posts: 86
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Post by William Aubrey on Feb 23, 2009 12:59:30 GMT -5
*William was a bit startled by the jostle, though not offset by it.*
"Think nothing of it." *He offered, British accent prevalent. The man seemed flustered and truthfully a bit peculiar. But it was something he couldn't place just of yet.*
"Are you late?" *He asked jovially. For everyone seemed in such a rush about this place.*
"I would hate to think I detained you."
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Farinelli
- Masterful Virgin -
Ni homme, ni femme
Posts: 37
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Post by Farinelli on Feb 23, 2009 15:04:22 GMT -5
Farinelli thought he recognized an English accent, and remembered England all to well because of it, and English tact and courtesy, none of which seemed out of place on this pleasant figure. So very different, and so very welcome, from that ghastly French boy who so obviously delighted in torment. Farinelli stopped on the stairs, unconsciously preserving the closeness of their physical arrangement after having knocked into the man, as though have someone else around was going to protect him from the deep distress aroused in him from that last encounter.
And this was more or less true; more than libido, for example, kept him bringing women around to his dressing room or to his hotel suite or the like, even though the women Farinelli'd met in the past were poor comfort from the mental confusion he suffered so frequently.
"Not at all, monsieur, don't think so for a moment," said Farinelli, lifting his head a little, the delicate voice no louder but no softer, either. He held the hat in his gloved hand, but did not, for the moment, replace it, hand almost hesitant, potentially kinetic but not acting upon the impulse.
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William Aubrey
- In the Duggins -
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People who ask for your criticism want only praise. ~ W. Somerset Maugham
Posts: 86
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Post by William Aubrey on Feb 23, 2009 16:52:15 GMT -5
*William's brow lifted, ever curious. The man seemed...delicate? No, that wasn't it. But something like it. He smiled invitingly.*
"Then just on the prowl then?" *He queried good-naturedly.*
"You've picked a magnificent hunting ground." *He assured the man before glancing at the opulence around them.*
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Farinelli
- Masterful Virgin -
Ni homme, ni femme
Posts: 37
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Post by Farinelli on Feb 23, 2009 17:13:19 GMT -5
((Hey hey look look! Their avatars match, only, like, opposite. With the musing, lace-hem hand all near the face and stuff.))
Farinelli smiled, which was really a very harmless and genuine, fresh-looking smile, particularly on his angelic countenance which had been, on occasion, so cruelly caricatured by the papers. But why should it be surprising that Farinelli looked as sexless and perfect as a Renaissance angel, he might have thought himself, if he ever dared think on himself? That was what he was. He could go no further, nor backwards - try though he might.
"Prowl, sir?" He unconsciously traced his thumb over the velvet-soft brim of his hat, heightening his pleasure in the moment, that soft texture against his so-sensitive fingertips. "You wouldn't consider this more of a promenade, perhaps?"
Farinelli rarely took pleasure in speaking - which was why, although he could certainly project his voice a great deal, he spoke very softly, in an intimate but almost detached fashion - but on occasion, when his sense of safety was not threatened, he did find joy in it.
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William Aubrey
- In the Duggins -
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People who ask for your criticism want only praise. ~ W. Somerset Maugham
Posts: 86
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Post by William Aubrey on Feb 24, 2009 7:43:01 GMT -5
*Well he was rather pretty, wasn't he? It only made sense that ballet dancers and goodly patrons would take to him easily. William bit his lower lip lightly for only a moment before conceding the point.*
"Promenade." *He concurred with a nod.* "If that is your pleasure." *He watched the man careful, for it was his nature to study, discern details.* "But you have not yet...found what you're looking for, no?" *He asked with an easy smile.*
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Farinelli
- Masterful Virgin -
Ni homme, ni femme
Posts: 37
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Post by Farinelli on Feb 24, 2009 10:23:42 GMT -5
Farinelli was used to being watched and accepted it graciously, tilting his head just slightly as though to expose the length of his neck above the lace of the collar generously, his posture very open, almost vulnerable but for the good-naturedness of it. That his voice continued to be soft could potentially have been construed as shyness, but a shy person would doubtless have hurried to remove himself from the immediate vicinity of another warm body.
"It is," said Farinelli in response. "And are you so certain?" He smiled, feeling his face change to accommodate the action, so pronounced was it.
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William Aubrey
- In the Duggins -
![*](//storage.proboards.com/forum/images/stars/star.png)
People who ask for your criticism want only praise. ~ W. Somerset Maugham
Posts: 86
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Post by William Aubrey on Feb 24, 2009 11:16:19 GMT -5
*William chuckled softly.*
"My dear chap, I am always certain." *He smiled invitingly.* "It's what they pay me for, after all."
*He extended his hand, frilled cuff hanging softly about it.*
"William Aubrey." *He offered, as if the man would recognize him easily enough. And he probably would, if he read the Gazette.*
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Farinelli
- Masterful Virgin -
Ni homme, ni femme
Posts: 37
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Post by Farinelli on Feb 24, 2009 14:34:48 GMT -5
Farinelli was vaguely - and yet very, at the same time - curious as to what he meant by that, but the fellow's name soon held the answer to that. Farinelli clasped his hand, not shaking it, but gripping it instead, with incredible softness, as though he did not want to grip it too hard. The lace cuff from his own sleeve was rather fancier, but this elegant sparseness seemed to suit Aubrey more than it would have Farinelli, who was still an opera singer before all else. He did recognize the critic's name. He wondered if the man had ever heard a castrato sing before. They did have magnificent reputations, and he felt that keen need to be liked as strongly as ever. "Farinelli." ((And here I have discovered the truth about castrati and sex! It's here. And Farinelli was about 12, so... Ironically, I was trying to look up Roman holidays yesterday and that author's book about ancient Roman tours came up. Talk about coincidence.))
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